


a power and a force(you've never seen before)

by twistedsky



Series: ramen24 [11]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Power Rangers, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4471253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedsky/pseuds/twistedsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Power Rangers AU for the Keating 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a power and a force(you've never seen before)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for a little hospital time(including a coma), and vague mentions of violence and sex. 
> 
> In addition, I'm aware that Power Rangers typically don't get to choose their own colors, but I don't care.
> 
> Basically, the Keating 5 all go to the same school for their undergrad, and then they become Power Rangers.

Michaela stares at the colored costumes in front of herself and four strangers, and then frowns.

“I like the pink,” Michaela says finally, shrugging slightly. “It’s a good color for me.”

“Take your crystal and merge it with the podium in front of the suit,” the woman—the very powerful, intense woman that Michaela is already in awe of—tells her.

Michaela steps forward and places the crystal in the open slot and then smiles when it whirls, and laughs when it disappears in a burst of light that moves to swirl around her.

She closes her eyes, because it’s so blinding, and enjoys the vague tingling sensation for the split second it lasts.

She opens her eyes and looks down at herself, twirling slightly on the heels of her feet, then smiling with satisfaction. “I love it,” she says honestly, reaching out and pushing a button on her wrist, which makes her helmet appear.

It’s like pure magic.

Michaela’s never been a huge believer in magic, but she believes what she sees, and _this_ is pretty freaking magical.

~~

Michaela spent all of high school perfecting herself—changing her accent, which _yes_ makes a difference, have you ever met people?—her appearance, and her mannerisms.

She’s _polished._

Being a Power Ranger changes all of that.

College, too, she thinks, makes a huge difference.

It rips away who you thought you were, and helps you become someone new.

These people she’d met in the special ‘freshman seminar’ she’d been selected for are not really _her_ people, but they’re the closest thing she has to friends so far. Her roommate is okay, but she’s pre-med, and she's too busy studying for organic chemistry, which is apparently totally kicking her ass.

Michaela's got study groups in all of her classes, but none of those people are her _friends._

But her fellow rangers—well, she supposes they’re teammates, and that means something, at least.

Wes is a puppy dog, and somehow he’s the leader(and the red ranger too, which makes her laugh, because he apparently owns too much red flannel not to be), and she wants to hate him for that, but it’s hard to when he’s the one who cares the most about keeping people safe—the one who rises first when someone else mutters something about acceptable losses.

“There are no acceptable losses,” Wes says, and that much, at least, Michaela can respect him for.

Connor is an asshole, and Asher is too, but they’re different brands of the same. Underneath all of that, she knows they’ve got good hearts.

Michaela spends half her time rolling her eyes at Asher, who has a rich judge daddy and dons the yellow ranger outfit like he’s some sort of beacon of joy and optimism. And hey, maybe he is. Sometimes he says things that make her want to backhand him, but when it counts, he learns and does better next time.

Connor, on the other hand, is competitive, and _vicious_. There’s something about that that gets Michaela all worked up. It’s _exciting_ to have someone who is actually halfway decent competition. He adopts the green color scheme in the darkest shades he can manage, and he seems far too pleased with himself most of the time.

(She ignores Annalise and Wes when they point out that they’re a team, not rivals. Michaela doesn’t see why they can’t be both, and Connor seems to agree, which almost makes Michaela bristle with irritation, except it’s true.)

Michaela’s not entirely proud of this, but she calls Laurel by the wrong name the first half a dozen times she sees her, with variations of Lauren and Laura, and once even _Lana_.

“Hello, Laurel,” Michaela says, arriving at their physical training location a little early one day, smiling brightly.

Laurel raises an eyebrow, and smiles ever so slightly. Likely because Michaela’s actually _trying_ today.

Michaela’s double majoring, and she’s pre-law.  And she’s a _Power Ranger_ , so she doesn’t exactly have a lot of extra time to focus on learning people’s names, except when she’s trying to impress someone or make new contacts.

She's not ashamed of that, because she knows who she is. 

“My body still aches from Tuesday,” Michaela says, stretching and wincing at the slight pain.

“Maybe you should get more practice in,” Laurel says, but it’s not as biting as it could be. “I see you’re taking the whole pink ranger thing to a new level,” she waves her hand at Michaela’s new training outfit, which is the hottest pink Michaela could find.

“I work out,” Michaela says, shrugging slightly. “And I like pink.”

“It’s a good color for you,” Laurel says, and Michaela turns to face her, expecting to see some sort of condescension or sarcasm, but only sees openness.

Michaela means to say something then, but when she opens her mouth, she’s stunned by the lack of words at the ready. She usually always has some sort of meaningless set of words ready to tumble out at any time.

Annalise shows up then, and Michaela and Laurel jump to attention.

Connor sashays in, and Asher runs in comically, falling all over himself.

“Wes is sick today,” Annalise tells them. “So we’ll be getting started now.”

Never a dull moment, Michaela thinks.

~~

Fighting monsters is pretty freaky, and somehow even scarier than one might expect, but Michaela almost finds it  . . . comforting.

She slips into the place in her mind that brings her peace, that place she hides when the world is too much, and she just operates on autopilot.

The good news about the evil aliens and their robots is that their plans aren’t all that creative.

It’s dangerous, but simple work. Not easy by any means, but not overly complicated either.

She believes this for the first few months, until an incident in the middle of the public library quickly escalates out of control, and Michaela watches as Asher gets hit in the head so hard she hears a resounding _crack_ from several feet away. He crumples to the ground as she kicks at her opponent and runs for him, kneeling down next to him. She hits the button that gets rid of his helmet, and looks him over.

He’s breathing, but he hit his head again on the fall down, and he’s bleeding from at least two places.

“Asher—“ Michaela yells at him. “Wake up, now.”

Panic threatens to overwhelm her, and she goes to the safe place in her mind and struggles to stay calm.

~~

She holds his hand all the way to the hospital, refusing to let go.

She doesn’t even really like him, but he’s her team member, and he’s just a goofy guy trying to help save the world.

It’s hard to hate him.

She lets go when the doctors make her. Wes had been forward-thinking enough to make them all de-suit before the paramedics had arrived, so thankfully they haven't blown their secret identities. 

They haven’t gotten much attention yet—mostly because the media doesn’t seem to know what to do with the brightly colored team of people fighting monsters—but Michaela still worries.

Her mind refocuses on Asher, and the fact that this could have been any of them.

This job is dangerous—Michaela knows this from fractured wrists and cracked ribs and half a dozen concussions already, but this is different.

Laurel takes her hand then, squeezing gently as if to provide some sort of comfort, but Michaela barely feels it at all. She squeezes back anyway, and looks sideways at Laurel to see that she’s just as terrified.

~~

Asher’s in a coma, and he could wake up at any time.

Michaela visits him as much as she can between classes and her part-time work study job. She studies at his bedside, and she’s not the only one.

Connor likes to wander in and pace around the room until Wes tells him to sit down, which just makes Connor leave the room, only to wander back in five minutes later. And then, the cycle begins anew.

Wes is always there, as far as Michaela can tell. He must go to his classes, but Michaela never sees him leave the bedside, except when visiting hours are over. Laurel wanders in and out in much the same way Michaela does, snatching bits of time here and there.

Three days in, Michaela wanders in practically at the crack of dawn, sneaking past a few nurses to get to Asher’s room, where she adjusts the curtain so that no one can see her when she sits down.

“You’re going to be just fine,” Michaela whispers. “You can wake up at any time, really.”

Michaela wonders if she’s really worried about him—yes, of course she is, don’t be ridiculous—or if she’s just worried because this could be her.

She doesn't know if she can do this anymore.

This could have been any of them, and that terrifies the crap out of Michaela, who knew this was dangerous, but not _lying in a coma_ dangerous.

Michaela hears a slight brush of curtains to the side, and looks up to see Wes coming in with a plate of cookies, which he places on the table next to Asher’s head.

“They’re his favorite,” Wes says softly, and Michaela nods, even though she didn’t know that.

Wes stands there, staring down at Asher, a contemplative look on his face. “We need to be more careful,” he tells her then, and something inside of Michaela threatens to snap, and she feels a surge of anger and rage.

She’s about to scream at him, but then his gaze meets hers, and she feels the energy just rush right out of her.

He’s scared, like she is.

“We will be,” Michaela says, surprising herself.

Just minutes before she’d been contemplating leaving the team, because this is all too much, but suddenly—she can’t imagine doing so.

These are her people.

She may not feel like a hero most days, but she’s doing the best she can, and that feels like more than everything else she’s got going on in her life.

~~

Asher wakes up on day seven, and Michaela has never been happier in her life.

She can’t remember being this grateful about something that’s not even about her, but then she realizes that it is. This is about all of them, even if it happened to Asher.

He’s unnervingly quiet—pale, tired, and weak, and it feels unnatural.

Connor broods in the corner, even though Asher is totally fine. They’ve got their own weird half-friendship, half-rivalry going on, Michaela thinks until she sees Connor wander up to his side and smile, and give him a gentle fist-bump, and she realizes that they’re just genuinely _friends_.

“When you get out of here, and you’re better, we’ll get you super drunk, and super laid,” Connor says jokingly.

Michaela hopes it’s jokingly, but she just rolls her eyes and lets it slide.

“Shut up, Connor,” Laurel says, but there’s no real heat, just an easy, friendly warmth.

They laugh, for some reason, and at least one of them starts crying soon after.

Michaela keeps it all bubbling under the surface, but she’s utterly overwhelmed.

~~

They’re a real team after that.

Asher heals, and then they all go over to his place and get drunk, and it’s the easiest access Michaela’s ever had to alcohol, and she has a long and sordid list of terrible alcohol-related experiences.

They start spending time together when they aren’t in class or training, or trying to save the world.

Apparently, Connor’s got some quasi-boyfriend named Oliver that he tries to pass off as just a fling, but as far as Michaela can tell they’ve been dating for months, and Connor’s halfway over the moon for him.

Oliver hangs out with them sometimes, though they’re all closed mouth on the whole ‘saving the world’ thing, which makes Michaela wonder if she’ll ever tell anyone she’s dating the truth.

Maybe? It’s hard to tell, especially since she’s not even sure how long she’ll be doing it. There’s an endless supply of villains to fight, but she can’t do it forever, none of them can.

Asher slept with one of his TAs the first week of classes, and he spends most of his time mooning over her, which Michaela is a little grossed out by, and she’s pretty sure that’s a lesson he’s going to learn the hard way.

Wes is dating some girl who wears enough black that she’d probably make a better black ranger than Laurel if such decisions were based off of wardrobes, and he seems to agonize over whether or not he can live with not telling her the truth.

Annalise says not to tell anyone, and for now Michaela’s abiding by the rule. She has no idea if anyone else truly is.

The truth is, of course, that she doesn’t really have anyone else to tell.

She can’t seem to find the energy to be upset about that.

After all, her life is pretty damn full already.

~~

They save a busload of kids from some slimy creature, then save a movie theatre full of people watching some nonsense paranormal movie from some monster that makes the movie come to life, and then there’s _still_ time for bees the size of dogs.

“I hate bees,” Michaela says, starting to strip off excess clothing in Asher's apartment. She’s gotten used to doing so around the team, and none of them stare at her ass or her breasts, so she doesn’t really care.

She’s still covered in the weird mush the bees were creating, and that’s stuck to the slime from the aforementioned slimy creature, so she can’t exactly head back to the dorms.

Michaela heads toward one of the guest baths—which, okay, in what universe does Asher need _three_ bathrooms? But whatever.

She opens the door to find Laurel. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t realize you were already in here.”

She means to avert her eyes, but she’s just so damn tired.

Laurel shrugs, then smiles. “I’m just finishing up. I had to wash my hair about four times.”

Michaela winces. It’s going to wreak havoc on her hair. She’d taken her helmet off for just a second, and then _bam_ she’d gotten a head full of the weird honey substance.

Laurel moves so that Michaela can get past her to the shower, and they gently brush up against each other, and Michaela thinks _oh_.

Michaela’s not sure which of them moves first, but she knows Laurel’s the one who shuts the door, and Michaela’s the one who pulls Laurel into the shower.

“Clean my back?” Michaela asks lightly, and Laurel smiles and acquiesces, and cleans a lot more than that.

~~

“Go, go Power Rangers,” Asher sings to himself.

They’ve been doing this for six months now, and the media has decided that they’re _entertaining_.

Michaela blames the video someone put up on YouTube, which was remixed into some sort of theme song.

Michaela’s not entirely sure if they’re heroes or laughingstocks, but she’s also not sure she cares.

(Two days ago, she saved a little girl on a playground, and the kid had looked up to her with big, shining eyes and declared that when she grew up, she wanted to be just as brave as her.)

Michaela looks around at her team and smiles.

The song is stuck in her head too, and she should be irritated, but she’s too happy to do anything but hum along with Asher's singing.

Laurel reaches over and takes her hand, sliding her thumb gently along Michaela’s wrist.

Yes, Michaela thinks, this is enough.


End file.
